


Locked Away in a Tower

by bazypitchandsimonsnow (ChessPargeter)



Series: Askfic Kiss Meme Requests [2]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Human Baz, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 15:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11762433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChessPargeter/pseuds/bazypitchandsimonsnow
Summary: Prince Simon of Watford has been kidnapped and guarded by a dragon for a year. Sir Basilton is sick of watching others fail to rescue him.Based on "supernatural kiss" prompt from Tumblr.





	Locked Away in a Tower

**Author's Note:**

> Hoooo boy is this long! Once again, Theo let her fic writing spin out of control. I wrote this in one sitting and murdered my eyeballs but it was worth it. I don't exactly know what supernatural kiss means, so I hope this is correct. Either way it was fun. Enjoy! :D

Everyone knows the story. It’s spread throughout the land.

In the kingdom of Watford, there’s a wizard king named David. He rules his people with an iron fist. Everyone fears his wrath. Though he had made good reforms to the kingdom, he’d hurt many in his way. But his son is another story. Prince Simon was kind where his father harsh. He used his great strength to help others rather than demand respect. He became a knight at only 17, a feat only achieved by one other; The son of the former royal family, Basilton Pitch, his bitter rival in school.

But there were those who wished to hurt King David. At age 20, someone kidnapped the Prince, and locked him away in a distant castle, leaving the King only a map and a note as a means to taunt him. To keep Simon from escaping and prevent brave men from attempting to rescue him, a terrifying dragon was on guard at all times. The kingdom was outraged to lose their beloved prince. Many blamed the Pitch family, claiming they took him because they wanted the kingdom back. But there was no proof. Only rumours and panic.

King David kept the true location of the castle to himself so his enemies would not go after his son. Knight after knight was sent, all returning unsuccessful. It became the impossible quest. The great trial for all knights of Watford. Though the King would not send one of his greatest knights, the only one who matched his perfect son. Me, Sir Basilton, and I’m damn well sick of it.

* * *

 

I yell as I plunge the sword into the practice dummy. I don’t know who I want it to be. King David, for once again refusing my request to be sent out. My father, for being even remotely happy about the Prince’s disappearance. The dragon, for keeping Simon hostage for a year. Simon, for getting himself bloody kidnapped. Myself, for being so bloody useless.

“What did that poor thing ever do to you, Basil?”

I turn to the snide voice. Penelope stands in the doorway, wearing her ridiculously bright coloured clothing to match her hair. Her patchwork cape waves behind her in the breeze. She thinks being a court magician means she has to look as eccentric as possible. As a magician myself, I thoroughly disagree.

“It pissed me off,” I mutter, using my left foot to violently kick off the hole-filled straw man from my blade.

“I didn’t know dummies were capable of causing so much rage.”

I sheath my sword. “What do you want, Bunce?”

She walks towards me. “I’m worried about you, Baz. You haven’t been sleeping again, have you?”

I growl, walking briskly past her into the castle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on, Baz!” She follows behind me. “It doesn’t take magic to see that you’re a complete disaster.”

She’s right. I have bags under my eyes, my hair's a mess from tossing and turning, and I generally look like shit. A year of unending worry certainly does a number on someone.

“I’m just concerned about the kingdom. Without the Prince’s tempering influence, I’m worried King David will go on the warpath.”

“Those aren’t your worries, those are your father’s.”

She’s right again. Mine are more along the lines of “terrified the boy I’m in love with is going to stay locked in a tower for the rest of his life, or get burn to a crisp by a temperamental dragon.” But I haven’t told Bunce that. And I’m going to keep it that way.

I whip around to face her. We’re standing in the stone hallway. My voice is very loud in the empty cavern. “Why are you interrogating me? Have your ideas about Pitches changed? Trying to find out if my family really did kidnap the prince? Going to report back to your King’s Champion brother?” I'm spitting vitriol, like I always do when I'm scared.

Penelope shakes her head, making her purple curls rattle. “No. Just concerned for a friend.”

My resolve softens slightly. Ever since Simon’s disappearance, Bunce and I have gone from enemies to mutual respect to tentative friendship. Despite my outburst, I know she’s one of the few people who truly believes my family has nothing to do with all of this. (She's smart enough to know we've gained nothing from it expect more ire from the Court.) We’re both scared for Simon too. Bonding through fear, I guess.

I reach out to place a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Bunce. But I’m perfectly alright.” Just terrified about the safety of the man I love. No problem there. I try to convey with only a look for her not to ask further. I can’t bring myself to say it out loud.

She sighs, knowing to back off. “Alright. To be honest, I’m a mess too. I’ve been pouring over my mother’s books about dragons. All of them say they’re non-violent creatures. They only attack as a last resort. Someone must be controlling it, making it guard Simon and attack knights.”

“So it’s under a spell. Know a way to break it?” Bunce is the most brilliant witch I’ve ever met. If anyone knows, she does.

“Without knowledge of the specific spell, no, definitely not. There’s universal curse breaking stuff, but those are a long shot.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Like what?”

She scoffs and throws me a smirk. “Well, there’s always true love’s kiss. But I don’t think you want to snog a dragon.”

I scoff myself, and start walking down the hallway again. “I would prefer not to have my lips burned off, thank you very much.”

We laugh together and keep moving forward. But my mind is far away. It’s at a desolate castle, where a now 21 year old man with blue eyes and bronze curls is being kept, guarded by a terrifying dragon. I just hope he’s okay.

* * *

 

“We need to launch a large scale assault. My subjects are getting very restless. They're threatening not to pay taxes now!” Lord Wellbelove shouts.

They’re all sitting at the large table in the King’s war room. King David sits at the head, elbows on the table with fingers locked together. His golden circlet is askew, and there are stress wrinkles all over his face. The constant state of panic in the kingdom has not helped to King’s mental or physical health.

“And what, have our entire army burned to the ground?” My father retorts.

“Oh be quiet, Malcolm. You just don’t want your scheme to fail. Everyone knows you stole the prince.”

“And where’s your proof? Because all of you have been accusing me for a year without a shred of evidence.”

“Then why shouldn’t we send the whole army, hm?”

“Because we shouldn’t leave the city unprotected! What if our enemies get word that Watford is unguarded? The vampires will overrun us.”

My father has a point, of course. But since it’s coming from him, they all assume it’s a plot. It’s infuriating. We love this kingdom just as much as they do. Just because we dislike the king doesn’t mean we’ll destroy Watford in the process.

“We’ll send another knight, if you all insist,” the King mutters.

Everyone turns to look at him. His expression is as hard as stone. I resist the urge to jump from my spot at the door and throttle the bastard.

“Who can we send?” Lord Wellbelove says. “Every knight has tried and failed.”

“I haven’t.” I step forward. Everyone turns to look at me. Both Father and King David glare at me for completely different reasons.

“Sir Basilton, what do you mean?” A lord interjects.

“I mean that I have not been sent to try and save Prince Simon. Which baffles me, considering I _am_ one of the best knights.”

Premal, Bunce’s infuriatingly smug brother, steps forward from behind the King. He sneers at me. “The King has been cautious because of the suspicion of you and your family. You and the Prince have never got along, not since you were children. Why would you want to help him? And what if you kill him for revenge? How many times has your aunt accused our ruler of causing the late Queen Natasha’s untimely demise?”

I tighten my grip on my sword handle. My blood is practically boiling. “Do not assume I share my aunt’s views. I serve the kingdom, and rescuing the heir would be in service to the kingdom. So please, allow me to go.”

“I’m not sure that’s wise-” the King starts. But he’s quickly cut off by another lord.

“Why not? Sir Pitch is correct, he’s one of the best knights in Watford.”

Lord Wellbelove stands up. “Also he’s a fire mage, like his mother. I think that would be quite useful against a dragon.”

There are mumbles of agreement among most of them. King David’s lip tightens. He glares at me, but he knows he can’t refuse me now. He sighs angrily.

“Very well. You shall set out tomorrow at first light, Sir Basilton.”

I bow gracefully. “Thank you, your highness.”

The meeting ends shortly after. I receive mixture of nods and glares as they all exit. Father pats my shoulder. As I leave, Premal grabs my arm. His stare would’ve caused weak people to shiver. Luckily, I’m not so easily intimidated by the likes of him.

“If you hurt Simon, I swear to Christ, Pitch, I’ll-”

“Don’t worry, Sir Bunce,” I say, snatching my wrist away from his grip. “I could never hurt him.”

* * *

 

I saddle my horse at dawn. Premal reluctantly gave me a copy of the map. Father wished me luck (he probably thinks a Pitch saving the Crown Prince will help our status). The king merely shook my hand and mumbled good tidings. Mordelia gave me her favourite toy, saying it would protect me. I promised to come back. I hope I don’t have to break that.

“There, all set, Ivory,” I murmured to my stead. “We’ve got a long road ahead.”

“Don’t I get a goodbye, Basilton?”

There’s Bunce again, dressed in ridiculously patterned pyjamas. (All her clothing is terrifying).

“Depends. Are you going to insult me?”

She rolls her eyes. “We always insult each other, it’s our thing.”

I cross my arms with a sly smirk. “Then I don’t need to give a goodbye to a stupidly clothed bespectacled witch.”

She walks to me with her hands on her hips, staring up with a frown. “Well, I don’t need one from a freakishly tall asshole knight.”

We both stare for a bit, then break out into giggles. It takes my mind off the situation for a second. But when we stop, reality sets in. Bunce looks scared. I can’t blame her. She’s lost Simon and I don’t think she wants to lose me either.

She throws her arms around my torso, crushing her face into my breast plate. I make an oomph sound before hugging her in return.

“Find him, please,” she whispers, “and don’t die.”

I stroke her hair. “I will, and I'll try not to, I promise.”

She pulls back and sticks hand in her robe pocket, pulling out a long white wand. “Take this.”

“Bunce, I have a wand-”

“I know. But you’ll want this one more. I, uh... acquired it from the royal vault. It was Queen Natasha’s.”

My eyes widen. I remember it now; Seeing my mother wave that wand, making fire dance all around the throne room for me. I’d giggle and clap at all the pretty lights. I cautiously take it from Bunce and put in my saddle bag. I clasp her hand one last time.

“Thank you, Penelope.”

She squeezes my palm in return. “Now go bring our boy home.”

I don’t verbally acknowledge what she says, but I know what she means. Of course she’s too smart not to notice what I feel. I nod and mount my horse, riding off into the distance.

* * *

 

I make camp in a forest that night. Ivory is tied to the tree. I lay my pallet out, next to a makeshift fire pit. Cautiously, I take my mother’s wand out of the bag. It’s a gorgeous thing, crafted from fine ivory and covered in swirled carvings, a smooth black leather handle at the thicker end. I point it at the wood pile and barely whisper the spell.

The fire roars to life. I chuckle. Of course it’s a powerful tool, especially in the hands of a fire mage like me. Like my mother was.

I remember the first time I set something on fire with magic. It was in school, in my first class of second year. We were all supposed to light a small twig. I did it without problem. But Simon made the stick explode. His magic was always powerful yet volatile. I thought he was an idiot then, unworthy of being the Crown Prince. Though deep down, I felt my stomach turn at the way he smiled sheepishly and blushed from embarrassment. I miss his smile.

“You better still be alive, you wonderful git,” I mutter.

After a light dinner, I tuck into bed for the night, still worrying as I nod off.

* * *

 

_“You absolute idiot!” Simon shouts at me. “You unleashed a chimera?!”_

_“It wasn’t me! It was already here!” I roar, hoping he’ll believe the lie._

_“I don’t have time to argue with you, Pitch. Just pick up your damn sword!”_

_I growl, but do as he says. We launch ourselves at the beast. Simon’s technique is frantic but effective. He slashes and cuts, spilling the monster’s blood. I try to be more precise, looking for a single weak spot._

_“Stop dawdling and just hit it, Baz!” he yells._

_“I’m trying to be effective!”_

_“Well you aren’t help- ah!” The chimera gets him in the side, sending him to the ground. He groans and clutches his head. The beast stops attacking me and goes straight for him. My heart seizes. I just wanted to scare Simon, not actually hurt him. It hits me like a ton of bricks in that moment. I don’t want anyone, including myself, to cause him any harm._

_But I don’t have time to sort through my feelings. The chimera gets closer to Simon. I charge at it, burying my blade in it’s neck to the hilt. I pull down and blood spills out of it in one large gush. With a last wet gasp, the beast collapses. Simon blinks rapidly and groans as he sits up. I’m panting, covered in chimera blood._

_“You saved me,” he says. For once, he doesn’t look at me like an enemy. His gorgeous blue eyes are wide, pink lips hanging open. He looks admiring and in awe. I realise how much I want him to always look at me like that. But, for someone scared of so little, I’m terrified of what he’d say if I told him._

_“Don’t kid yourself, Princeling,” I sneer. “If you died while I was here, your idiot father would most assuredly blame me and my family. I don’t need another reason for him to hate us.”_

_The look goes away, replaced with a scowl, and my heart breaks. He gets up and starts to walk. “Fuck you, Pitch.”_

_As I watch his back move farther away, I know one thing to be true. I’m in love with Prince Simon, heir to King David, impossible golden boy, and my sworn enemy. My life is a living hell._

* * *

 

I wake up with a gasp. The sun is rising in the east. The fire has died. My face feels wet. I touch my cheek, and see tears on my fingers. Of course I’m thinking about that day while going off to save Simon. Six years later and it’s still fresh in my mind.

What if I do rescue him? Will I tell him then? The prospect makes my heart stutter.

“No,” I say to myself, “no time for silly feelings.”

Most importantly, I have to save the Crown Prince. Not Simon, the boy with a big heart and an even bigger smile. Because I’m a knight and it’s my sworn duty to protect this kingdom. My stupid undying love comes second to that.

That’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

* * *

 

The castle is enormous. A large crumbling fortress sitting on a cliff side. Crows and ravens caw as they circle it’s tallest tower. I leave Ivory tied up in a nearby wood. I make one last check to make sure that my armour is secure, my sword is at my side, and my mother’s wand is up my sleeve.

“Don’t worry, Simon,” I say, “help is on the way.”

I cautiously walk across the rickety old drawbridge, hand ready on my sword. The only sounds are the birds above. I enter the front door as quietly as possible. The whole room is pitch black. Pulling out the wand, I light a small fire in my hand. It illuminates only the first few feet in front of me. The floor is cracked with vines growing through. No one has truly lived here for ages, obviously. I walk more towards the centre.

“Hello?” I whisper. “Anyone in in here?”

I hear no response. Not a human one anyway.

The growl to my left of me is guttural, certainly animal. I freeze in place. Slowly, I expand the fire as I turn on the spot.

It’s hanging on the wall, Large, scaly, and bright red. I can only see part of it’s face. That long reptilian snout poking out in front of me. It’s lips pull back to show sharp white teeth, barely visible slit pupils narrowing under the firelight.

I back up a bit. “Oh god.”

Smoke pours from it’s nose holes, mouth starting to open. I hear it take in a breath.

“Shit-”

I dive out of the way just as the column of flames shoots out, hitting the ground with a thud. The dragon’s breath lights a series of old torches along the opposite wall. I see the beast more clearly now. It’s bright scarlet with a bit of a metallic bronze sheen. Large bat wings with sharp joint tips extend from its back. A pointed tail slashes back and forth angrily.

I unsheathe my sword and assume battle stance, slipping my wand into my belt. “Come on you overgrown lizard! Give me a real fight!”

The dragon roars, shaking the foundations of the castle. It launches forward with claws bared. I barely dodge the attack. It slides across the floor and growls. It tries to hit me again and again with it's front claws, but I parry each attempt. This beast fights with no technique. Just desperately hoping it’ll get me with a stray slash. But it’s absolutely relentless. I feel my lungs beginning to ache and my arms getting sore.

It backs away. I take a moment to breath, sword falling. The dragon opens it’s mouth, and I see fire building in it’s throat.

I whip out my wand as the fire barrels towards me. When it hits the ivory tip, the flames burst out to surround me. My arm wobbles slightly as I hold the massive amount of fire back. I can’t do this for long. It sucks away too much of my magic and strength.

The onslaught ends. I wave my wand to clear the remaining flames. Just in time to see the monster jumping towards me.

It tackles me to the ground. I hold it’s front talons away from my face with the flat of my sword, using both hands to push with all my might. It’s scaly head turns to stare down at me with one reptilian blue eye.

Wait. I know that blue.

It’s not special. Not navy or cornflower. Just, blue. The same blue I’ve spent years studying and committing to memory.

My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Simon?”

The dragon’s eye expands. It stops pushing against me. Slowly, it lets me sit up. My head is spinning. My heart is pounding. It can’t be, right?

“Simon, is that you?”

Impossibly, the dragon’s face softens. It’s pupils expand and its lips hang a bit open. I fully sit, watching the beast back away slightly. It stares at me with wide, wondering eyes. That only confirms my fears. I’d know that look anywhere.

No wonder the knights before always found a dragon but no prince. They were one and the same.

“Oh god,” I whisper, “it’s really you.”

I go to my knees and drop my sword. The clanking noise rings in the otherwise silent room. I tentatively reach out towards him. He pulls back with a growl.

“It’s alright, Simon. It’s me, Baz. You know who I am.”

He calms down, and walks towards me. I carefully place my hand on his face. He turns into my touch, nuzzling my palm. His scales scrape against my rough hands.

“Who did this to you?”

He whimpers, eyes big and pleading. He looks so sad, so broken. A few tears leak out onto his face. I run my thumb across his cheek, wiping them away as best I can.

“I’m so sorry, Simon,” I say. “Who would do this? To you, of all people?” I hold the other side of his face, cradling it softly. “I wish Bunce were here with her brilliant spells. She’d know what to do. She’d know how to break this awful curse...”

My voice trails away, mind flinging back to only a few days earlier.

_“There’s universal curse breaking stuff, but those are a long shot.”_

_“Like what?”_

_“Well, there’s always-”_

“True love’s kiss,” I whisper.

Simon looks as close to confused as he can manage. I stare at him straight in the eye, clutching his face tighter.

“Simon, for both our sake’s, I hope this works.”

I scrunch my eyes close, hold my breath, and snog a dragon.

His lips (really just the very tip of his huge dragon mouth) are hot and scaly. They’re scratchy against my closed ones. I hold him in place, but he doesn’t really move. He’s completely frozen. Bit by bit, I feel the rough scales dissolve under my touch, replaced with soft skin. His head becomes lighter and smaller, until I'm cupping his jaw. Before I know it, a warm human mouth is moving against mine. I tangle my fingers in his rough curly hair. I love the way they feel against my touch. Because they feel like only Simon could.

I pull away, blinking rapidly. There he is, kneeling right in front of me, naked save for a long red cloth bunched around his waist. His tawny skin is covered in filth, bronze curls all matted and tangled, and lids heavy over his tired blue eyes. He looks beautiful. He looks so _alive_.

“Baz?” he rasps out. "I-is it really you?"

I smile, salt water stinging my eyes. “Yes, Simon. It’s me. You’re safe now.”

“Oh, Baz!” He throws himself around me, burying his face in my shoulder. I feel his tears soak my tunic. One of my arms is tight across his back, the other smoothing his hair.

“It’s okay, it's all okay now,” I murmur into his ear. “It’s going to be okay. It’s all right, love.”

* * *

 

It takes awhile for Simon to calm down. He cries in my embrace on and off for what feels like hours. But when he regains most of his composure, I wrap him in my thick cloak and gently carry him bridal manner. He clings to my neck like he’s scared I’ll vanish if he lets go. I make sure to take my sword and wand as we leave. (Don't want to be defenceless if I have to protect him.)

I go to where I left Ivory. Grabbing my pallet with one hand, I lay it on the ground and place Simon on top. As I pull back, he tugs my sleeve.

“No,” he whines, “please don’t go.”

His voice is so small, like a terrified child’s. I shed my armour quickly. The pallet is not meant for two. But I don’t care. I lay next to him, holding his side with one hand and tangling our legs together.

His face is all scrunched up, like he’s still in pain. There are still some stray tears. I rub them away.

“You’re alright now,” I say softly.

“I was there for so long,” he sobs. “I-I was so scared. I was horrible. I was an animal, a beast, a monster, I-”

“Stop it, Simon. That wasn’t you. That was the curse.”

He opens his eyes slowly with that awe filled expression. “Which you broke.”

I freeze. We’re both magicians. We both know about the power of true love’s kiss, and certainly what it means. There's no point in denying it now. I sigh heavily. “Yes, I did.”

He tentatively brings a hand onto my side. I shiver as he traces me with his fingers. “For how long, Baz?”

I cup his cheek. I can fit most of his face in just one hand. “A long time. Almost since we met.”

He gasps and tenses slightly. But I can feel as he slowly relaxes. He smiles. I’ve really, really missed that smile. He moves closer, tucking his head under my chin. He tentatively kisses my chest, making me shudder.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into my tunic. “F-For finding me, for saving me, for... everything.”

My heart almost beats out of me. I’m overwhelmed with relief and love. I lean down and press my lips to his hair. “You’re welcome, Simon.”

We fall asleep like that, tangled together on the dirty old pallet. And I couldn’t be happier.

* * *

 

Simon wakes up sometime in the afternoon, when the sun is bright in the sky. Saying he was beyond exhausted is an understatement. He sits up with a start, panting and sweaty.

“Baz!” He shouts.

I run over to him. “I’m right here, Simon. It’s okay.”

He grabs my hand and breathes deeply. “I dreamt I was back in the castle. T-That I was still cursed.”

“You’re not cursed. Not anymore. You’re out of there and you’re okay.”

We hear a low grumble. Simon groans and clutches his stomach. I raise an eyebrow. “Hungry?”

He nods vigorously. “Very. I think I only ate birds as a dragon.”

I chuckle and stand up, not letting go of his hand. “I’ll cook something up for us. There’s a stream nearby to the west if you want to wash up, and there are some clean clothes.” I gesture to pile next to the pallet.

He squeezes me once and nods. “Okay.”

His hand slowly falls from mine. I watch over my shoulder as he picks the garments up and walks away. He flashes me one last soft smile.

* * *

 

Simon returns just as I finish cooking the rabbits I’d caught. He rolls up the sleeves on the brown tunic (I _am_ three inches taller). His damp curls stick to his forehead. I watch his mouth water at the sight of the rabbit.

I slide one off the spit and hand it to him. He sits down next to me and bites into it greedily, moaning in delight. I chuckle, just happy to see him like this. It reminds me of our days at school when he’d devour whole plates of sour cherry scones.

“God this is good,” he groans with his mouth full.

“Glad you approve of my mediocre cooking skills,” I reply.

“Well, I’ve just missed food without feathers.”

We both laugh, but quickly fall into awkward silence. I cautiously put my rabbit down.

“Simon, do you know what happened? How you were cursed?”

Simon scowls, fingers digging into the meat of the animal. “It’s one of the few things I do remember clearly.” He puts his meal down, picking at his pants angrily. “It feels like so long ago. I got in a fight with my father. I found out that he wasn’t just harshly taxing the rich, but the townspeople too. I told him it was too much for them. Then it all just, spun out of control. He accused me of undermining him, of trying to usurp his throne. I tried to reason with him but he was beyond it. He put me under a sleeping spell. Next thing I knew, I was in that bloody castle. He told me it was time for me to disappear so he could do his work. Then he, he... changed me.”

I reach out and grab his bicep. He’s shaking so badly. I steady him as best I can. Little by little, the shaking subsides. His head falls onto my shoulder.

“It’s all a bit of a blur after that. I remember the constant urge to attack anyone I saw. Lots of swords and fire and blood. I ran on pure instinct. Sometimes, my consciousness would take over, but only a for a few minutes. Like little glimpses of reality through the haze. It was so awful!”

I wrap my arms around him in a side hug. “I know, I know. But it’s over now. You’re safe. I’ll never let him or anyone else hurt you ever again.”

He grips my forearms. “What I don’t understand is why. Why would he do it?”

“Why else? Control. The people love you, Simon. They’d choose you over him in a heartbeat. He needed you gone in case they decided to rebel and rally around you. But I guess just killing you and saying you vanished wouldn’t have been good enough. So he made it seem like you’d been captured. Panicked over their beloved crown prince being taken by an unknown enemy, the people and nobility would need a strong ruler, like him.”

“But, he sent knights after me.”

I sigh, tracing circles on his shoulder. “Yes, he did. He needed to make it look like he wanted to rescue you, I guess. Maybe he thought we’d all give up after the first few tries, but he underestimated your popularity among the people. The lords never stopped demanding he send knights because their subjects never did.”

He looks up at me, expression filled with astonished hope. “They... never stopped?”

I brush some of his soggy hair away from his eyes. “Never. Neither did I. I asked to go after you all the time. I guess King David knew I was a skilled enough magician to break the curse, so he prevented me for as long as possible.”

He turns so we’re facing each other, caressing my bicep with one hand. “I doubt he thought you’d break the curse like that, though.”

We both break out in giggles. I cradle his soft face, covered in those beautiful freckles and moles. “As did I. Nor did I think you’d feel the same way.” An awful fear bubbles in my stomach. I pull back slightly, hands falling away. “Do- Do you feel the same way? It’s alright if you don’t, I’d understand. I’m not going to force you.”

He shakes his head violently. “No! I mean, yes, I-I do. When I think about it, I have for awhile. I mean, maybe not as long as you. But when I look back, at all the things I thought about you, they were angry, but also admiring. I’ve _always_ admired you, Baz. More than I was supposed to.” He moves to hold my jaw in his warm hands. “I like this, Baz. I like _you_. I like being near you, knowing that you’re okay. Every time I resurfaced, I thought about how much I missed Watford, and Penny, and especially you. So... yes, I’m pretty sure I feel the same.”

I smile so hard my face nearly splits, moving to grip his shoulders. We lean together until our foreheads are touching. “Thank you for telling me.”

He giggles. “Thank you for saving me.”

We both move forward and kiss for the second time. It’s a thousand times better than before, because it's wanted, not needed. I know how he feels, know that he cares about me. I snake my arms around his back and press him to me. I never want to let him go.

We only separate when the need for air takes over. Simon places his head in the crook my neck, hugging me tightly. “I missed you so much, Baz.”

I stroke his hair, inhaling the scent, smoke and cinnamon. “Me too, Simon. Me too.”

* * *

 

We ride back to Watford as soon as possible. It only takes a day and a half at the speed we go. Simon wears my hood and cape to hide his face as we go through the outer city. He doesn’t need to be swarmed by crowds now. He needs to see someone in particular.

Using the hidden stairway and servant’s passages, we arrive at the doors of the throne room. I can hear people talking inside. Another council meeting. Simon pulls down his hood. He straightens his back and holds his head up high, looking like the powerful royalty he is. He takes a deep, shaky breath. I grab his fingers.

“You don’t have to do this now,” I say.

He squeezes my hand, but nods solemnly. “Yes, I do.”

He lets me go and pushes the double doors open. The room goes silent. Everyone turns to look at Simon. There’s some gasps and a lot of dropped jaws. Father is stunned. Lord Wellbelove seems primed for a heart attack. Bunce stands near the back, grinning ear to ear. And King David looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“S-Simon?” he squeaks.

“Hello father,” Simon says coldly. “We need to talk.”

* * *

 

Simon paces back and forth in our quarters. He’s mumbling to himself, running a hand through his hair repeatedly, the other picking at the hem of his embroidered tunic. His long green robe trails behind him on the dirty floor.

“What if I mess up? What if I get the words wrong?”

I sigh from my spot sitting on our bed, trying to rub off a stray scuff on my new wrist guard. (I just polished it yesterday!) “You won’t. You've practised it a hundred times.”

“But I’ll get up there and get tongue tied and the Lords will realise I’m too young and I can’t do this and-”

“Simon!” I stand and grab his wrists, halting him in his tracks. “Stop panicking! You’ll be a wonderful king. You’ve proved that already so many times. The whole court is behind you. Perfect words or no words at all, they _will_ crown you.”

Simon sighs and nods. “I know. I’m just... really scared.”

“And that’s natural, love. But no matter what happens, be assured that your King’s Champion will protect you.” I pat the hilt of my sword. Simon chuckles.

“You can’t use your sword to solve all my problems, Baz.”

I shrug. “Well, I could try kissing them away. Worked six months ago.”

Simon breaks out laughing. I love his laugh. It’s so happy and cheerful. Even after everything he went through. “I think that was a one time thing, love.”

We lean forwards until foreheads tap, fingers intertwining. “You’re going to be great, Simon,” I whisper. “I know it.”

He rubs his nose against mine. “Thank you.”

He kisses me softly. I move my mouth slowly against his. It's long and languid, utterly filled with love. It makes me feel a bit drunk, and very happy. I’ll never get tired of kissing this man. He pulls away but keeps our lips close together.

“I love you, Baz,” he says.

“And I love you, Simon.” I move back so I can look at his beautiful face. “No matter what you are. Prince, wizard, knight, dragon, king. Whatever you are, wherever you are, I’ll always love and be there for you. I swear on my sword.”

He smiles, making his blue gaze sparkle. He grips my hand. “Thank you, darling. I promise the same, you know. To love and protect you from all that would want to hurt you. For the rest of my bloody days. I swear on my throne."

I trace a finger down his jaw to hold his chin. He swipes his thumb over the back of my hand. Though we are not married, and may never be, it's okay. These are as good as any wedding vows. “Thank you, my love.”

There’s a knock on the wooden doors. Simon turns to them. “Enter,” he says.

Bunce pops her head in. She’s in her most subdued formal outfit, a navy robe with stars on it. Very classic wizard. The silver forehead tiara (signifying her position as Head Court Magician) is slightly off kilter in her mound of purple hair.

“It’s showtime, boys.”

Simon takes a deep breath. I hold his hand tightly. He looks at me with a soft smile, speaking under his breath.

“Let’s do this.”

* * *

 

Two members of the King’s Guard push open the throne room double doors. The trumpeters sound their instruments through the grand hall. Everyone stands and turns. We walk forward slowly. Simon is at the front of course. Bunce and I stand behind him, forming a moving triangle. That’s how it’s supposed to be. A king, his champion, and his magician. The three pillars that hold up Watford. I’m so glad to be a part of it, especially for Simon.

Everyone watches us. Father and Aunt Fiona nod to me with subtle smiles. Mordelia waves wildly until Daphne stops her. Lord Wellbelove is grinning, Lady Agatha right next to him. Even Premal, who rejected former King David when he learned of his deception, looks beyond pleased. He trusts Simon to rule well, and he's very proud of his little sister. He wasn’t even mad when I took his job. (I may actually grow to like him.)

We arrive at the throne. Simon walks up the few steps, while Bunce and I stay at the bottom. The royal priest stands there.

“Prince Simon,” he says, “do you come here to take up the throne of Watford?”

“I do.”

“Recite the oath of kings to accept the crown.”

Simon straightens. “I, Prince Simon, do swear to uphold the laws of this land, rule the people kindly, defend it from enemies, and make sure it prospers under my watch. From this day until my dying breath, I promise such.”

I smile slightly. I knew he wouldn’t mess up.

“Kneel before the throne.”

Simon takes one knee, bending his head forward. The priest takes the large gold crown, covered in green and purple gems, from the satin pillow. He slowly places it on his head. It fits like it’s meant to be there. Simon carefully stands, and I see him breath out slowly.

He turns to face the court. I turn as well. My eyes flick to him. He smiles and nod.

“All hail King Simon,” I shout. “Lord Protector and one true ruler of Watford. Long live the King!”

“Long live the King!” Everyone yells back. “Long live the King! Long live the king!”

They erupt into cheers and claps. Simon steps down to my level. I feel his hand slip into mine. He’s grinning so wide. It makes my heart race.

I swore to be by his side no matter what. To love him no matter what. And I certainly meant it.

**Author's Note:**

> Got you with that twist there, huh? Yes, I'm very sneaky, I know. Like M. Night Shyamalan before he was shit, haha. Seriously this was so much fun to do. I loved writing it. I really hope you all enjoyed it. I certainly did :)  
> Feel free to request more kiss fics [here](https://bazypitchandsimonsnow.tumblr.com/post/163965447268/askfic-kiss-meme)  
> PS: I have no idea what Natasha's wand is supposed to look like. I gave my best guess  
> 


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